Part 42 (1/2)
”We're all fools at times,” he retorted, laughing. ”You were when you shot at me. Suppose I'd been seized with panic. I might have turned loose on you, too.”
For a while she remained silent, then she looked at him curiously:
”Were you armed?”
”I carry an automatic pistol in my portfolio pocket.”
She shrugged.
”You were a fool to come into that house without carrying it in your hand.”
”Where would you be now if I had done that?”
”Dead, I suppose,” she said carelessly.... ”What _are_ you going to do with me?”
He was in excellent humour with himself; exhilaration and excitement still possessed him, keyed him up.
”Fancy,” he said, ”a foreign emba.s.sy being mixed up in a plain case of grand larceny!--robbing with attempt to murder! My dear but bloodthirsty young lady, I can hardly comprehend it.”
She remained silent, looking straight in front of her.
”You know,” he said, ”I'm rather glad you're not a common thief.
You've lots of pluck--plenty. You're as clever as a cobra. It isn't every poisonous snake that is clever,” he added, laughing.
”What do you intend to do with me?” she repeated coolly.
”I don't know. You are certainly an interesting companion. Maybe I'll take you to New York with me. You see I'm beginning to like you.”
She was silent.
He said:
”I never before met a real spy. I scarcely believed they existed in time of peace, except in novels. Really, I never imagined there were any spies working for emba.s.sies, except in Europe. You are, to me, such a rare specimen,” he added gaily, ”that I rather dread parting with you. Won't you come to Paris with me?”
”Does what you say amuse you?”
”What _you_ say does. Yes, I think I'll take you to New York, anyway.
And as we journey toward that great metropolis together you shall tell me all about your delightful profession. You shall be a Scheherazade to me! Is it a bargain?”
She said in a pleasant, even voice:
”I might as well tell you now that what you've been stupid enough to do tonight is going to cost you your life.”
”What!” he exclaimed laughingly. ”More murder? Oh, Scheherazade! Shame on your naughty, naughty behaviour!”
”Do you expect to reach Paris with those papers?”
”I do, fair houri! I do, Rose of Stamboul!”